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Wyatt nodded, and he tightened his grip on Charl's arm.
“Come this way,” he said.
"Alright, alright. I don’t want to go anywhere with you. I’ll cooperate.” With the threat on the verge of being carried out, she saw that Charl was now reconsidering the wisdom of his actions. “But what if I tell you and you still don't like the answers? Why are you picking on me at all?" he demanded.
Juliette could see clearly that he didn't trust the police.
"Unfortunately we do have a complaint against you already. You tried to attack a woman."
His eyes widened. "That woman from yesterday? She was trying to take money from my hat. She was a thief. All I did was warn her off. I am a performer and the money I make is mine! She tried to grab a handful of euro notes, right from out of my collection!" He glared at her. "Where were the police then? Where were you when my money was being stolen? You were nowhere! You don't want to help us. You just want to bully us!" He raised his voice, glancing back at the other performers, who were still gathered in an angry group.
That was a different story from what Juliette had expected. Was this man just thinking on his feet to save himself, or was he telling the truth? She didn't know, but she did know the alibi for the time of the crimes would provide the answer.
"Your movements yesterday?"
"I was performing, right here in the square."
"Until when?" Juliette pressured him. After he'd finished, when the crowds were thinning, was exactly when this crime had most likely occurred. That was now what she needed to check.
"Until nine," he said. "At nine, I left the square."
Katarina had been murdered at around quarter to ten. So his movements after leaving the square were important.
"And then where did you go?"
"I went home via the Metro. I live on the outskirts of Paris. The Metro station takes me straight to my front door, almost. I arrived home at half-past nine. I then went to a bistro across the road from my apartment block and I had dinner there. I saw a few friends, which I had arranged earlier. I can prove I was there."
Juliette nodded. "We need that proof."
"My Metro pass. I can show you the trip. I can show you the messages I sent to my friends, to meet them at the bistro. The barman knows me. The waitresses, too."
Now, at last, he was cooperating and Juliette felt glad. Finally, they'd made some progress. It seemed like this suspect could be ruled out, but she wasn't letting him go until she had confirmed that alibi. And luckily, their tech expert would be able to do that quickly.
"I need you to wait," she said.
She took screen shots with her own phone, of the evidence he'd given her on his phone. Then, quickly, she messaged Sierra.
"We have an alibi that needs to be confirmed, by making a few calls and checking a few transactions. Here are the screen shots. Can you do it?"
"Sure,"Sierra messaged back.
Meanwhile, Charl was starting to complain again, pulling away from Wyatt, who was holding him firm, with a frown on his face.
"You can't go yet," he said. "We need to get proper confirmation. Until then you're still a suspect."
"I am an innocent man and this is police abuse!" he shouted.
Juliette turned back to him, trying to keep as calm as possible.
"It's not abuse. We can't let you go until the alibi is confirmed. The woman who's working on it is very fast and I'm sure she'll do it in a few minutes. Please, will you be patient and continue to cooperate with us for that time?"
"Alright," he said, sounding resentful but calmer, and she saw that her logic had gotten through to him.
Juliette was relieved. She'd been concerned about the situation escalating. But now, she thought, they could get through this without any further trouble.
Until she looked over her shoulder, and saw that the opposite had happened.
A growing crowd of performers was now encircling them. She heard irate shouts from the musicians, the mime artists, the acrobats, the artistically painted statues. Someone threw an empty can of soda and it clattered down at her feet.
